


Night Shift

by StayBriizee



Series: The Pritchard Family [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Babysitting, Cheating, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-09-21 09:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StayBriizee/pseuds/StayBriizee
Summary: You're working as a babysitter for Abraham, after a considerable length of time apart. He confides in you about his marital struggles and puts you to work for the day. However, after some mishaps, you have to stay at his home overnight. What could possibly happen with an explicit rating?





	Night Shift

**Author's Note:**

> To be clear, this fic is set back in the 80s, when Jackson and his brother were children. To be doubly clear, this isn't the same "reader" as in the Jackson fics; i.e., the reader didn't fuck Jackson's dad then turn around and try to fuck Jackson
> 
> For more info on Abraham and the Pritchard family, check out my Pritchard Family series for a full description!

The mid-afternoon sun shone brilliantly in the sky, heating the air with a readily noticeable heat, made more noticeable by the plain black dress and heels you wore as you stood in your driveway. You smoothed down the front of your dress with your palms as you watched the car door of a run-down pickup truck swing open. From the driver’s side came a stoutly built man, his hair dark and slicked back, with a neatly groomed goatee on his face. He slammed his car door shut, with an aged rattle from the metal paneling. He walked around the front of his truck, dressed in a dark red plaid button up tucked into a pair of brown slacks. He pushed several loose strands of hair behind his ear and smirked, stopping a couple feet in front of you.

“It’s been a while since I seen you. You gonna come give me a hug, ‘r what?”

He outstretched his arms and you did the same, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his back. You felt his hands against you, one hand pressed tightly between your shoulder blades, and the other rubbing up and down near the small of your back.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Pritchard.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

You’d known Abraham Pritchard for a couple years, both as a member of the town and your boss of sorts. You’d babysat his kids many times, spending many days, and sometimes nights, watching over his two boys as he worked, or spent a night with his wife, or to himself. Over the past month, however, tensions between Abraham and his wife had kept you from staying over that often; for the past couple weeks, in fact, you hadn’t seen Abraham at all. But now, finally, the two of you were face to face again as you both released the hug.

“The boys ‘re pretty excited t’ see you again,” Abe said, walking towards the passenger side door and opening it for you. “Maybe you c’n help me calm ‘em down some. They been drivin’ me crazy with everything goin’ on.”

Abe extended his hand for you to grab as he helped you step into his truck. Once you were inside, you took care to make sure your arms and legs weren’t in the way before he pushed the car door shut. He climbed into the driver’s seat shortly thereafter, turning the key and being met with a metallic rattle and gruff rumble of the engine.

“So,” he started, “Seein’ as it’s been a while since I put you t’ work, I hope you’re ready to put in some hard work today, little lady.”

“I’m always ready to work, Mr. Pritchard.“

Abe smiled and put the car into gear, staring out at the road ahead.

“Don’t I know it, darlin’.”

Abe drove along the aging gravel road, the truck bumping and jostling along the contours of the pavement. His eyes were focused, brows turned downward as he stared out at the long stretch of road ahead. The farm on which he worked was far from the center of town, where he lived a solitary life, tending to his crops and animals, taking care of his wife and children. Presently, he leaned back in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel with his right hand. His left hand rested in his lap, up toward the top of his thigh, where his wedding wing glinted from the afternoon sunlight filtering through the window. After several minutes of comfortable silence, Abraham began to speak.

“How much’ve you heard about me an’ Diana lately? I know people in town love t’ talk. About anything.”

You took your eyes off his wedding ring to meet his eyes. You only caught them for a moment, a sunlit brown, before he turned his head back toward the road.

“Not much. People are asking me what’s going on because I work for you.”

“And?”

“And I haven’t had anything to say.”

Abraham paused, his finger thoughtfully rubbing against his upper lip.

“Okay. You ain’t told nobody nothin’. But what’s everyone been tellin’ you?”

You hesitated, but were pushed to speak by an expectant gaze from Abraham.

“I heard some people say Mrs. Pritchard was somewhere back in town. Staying at a hotel. Some people said she had bags packed. I don’t know how true that is.”

Abe’s fingers stroked against his goatee, then he stroked the length of his jawline with his hand.

“I won’t lie t’ you,” he started, shifting in his seat, “That’s true. She’s been outta the house for a little while. Talkin’ it out wasn’t workin’, so I s’ppose we needed space. Or she did, I’m guessin’. It’s just been me an’ the boys at home. It’s real quiet lately.”

He stopped for a moment.

“Nah. Not quiet. That ain’t really the word. The boys ain’t quiet, I know that. Not sure what word I’m lookin’ for.”

In your throat you felt and quelled an urge to respond, avoiding a mishap of speaking out of turn. Abe glanced in your direction and back at the road.

“I c’n tell you wanted t’ say somethin’. You c’n talk.”

“I didn’t wanna sound rude,” you said, looking down at your dress. “I was just gonna say, maybe you meant ‘lonely’.”

Abraham’s eyebrows furrowed further downward, his head bobbing up, and down again in a nod of recognition.

“Mmmm. Never really thought’a myself as th’ lonely type. I don’t mind bein’ alone. I prefer it, sometimes.”

As the car approached a bump in the road, the thick dark pavement changing to light, soft dirt, Abraham’s hand reached out to press against your stomach, bracing you for the jostling of the truck. The vehicle jumped and careened on its front and back wheels, and Abe’s fingers pressed lightly into your stomach, just below your ribs, keeping you securely in your seat. After he passed the bump, he slid his fingers away from you, his fingertips lingering for a fleeting moment against your sides before he again gripped the wheel.

“Sorry about that. What was I talkin’ about?”

“That you like being alone. Sir.”

“Right. That’s right. It’s true. I appreciate some peace an’ quiet when I c’n get it.”

Abe glanced over you and smirked, his eyes drifting up and down from your face, down towards the hem of your dress, and back toward the road.

“But I’ll surely enjoy havin’ some company for once.”

The remainder of the drive continued, primarily with the rattle and hum of the truck as it lugged its way down the road. The two of you spoke sporadically throughout the long drive; about the kids, about how the farm was doing, about the animals; the kids were fine, some crops were struggling, but a new calf had been born just a few weeks ago, not long after you’d finished your last job.

The truck pulled into the yard, bumping up and down on its wheels, prompting Abraham to place his hand lightly over your stomach again. He pulled the car around to the back of the home, near the toolshed, and ceased the churning of the engine with a turn of his key. He motioned for you to stay in your seat as he opened his car door and exited, slamming it shut and walking around the front of the truck to open your door. Once again, he extended his hands, which you took, as he helped you out of the truck. Not long after, you heard a collection of patters, undoubtedly footsteps, rushing with increasing speed and volume in your direction. Running toward you both were Jackson and Noah, Abraham’s children; Jackson led, and Noah followed behind, being smaller and younger. Both of their arms wrapped around to hug you. You hugged them both back, and heard Abe slam his car door shut behind you.

“Ain’t I ever taught you boys manners? Greet ‘er proper-like.”

The boys let go of their hug and step back, Jackson speaking first.

“Sorry, daddy. It’s just we missed her a lot since momma ain’t here. We hope you’re havin’ a good day, ma’am.”

“An extra good day,” Noah cut in.

Abe’s hand rubbed up against the small of your back as he walked up behind you, pointing the boys toward the front of the house.

“Alright. That’s better. Now you two run along back in the house. Go’on.”

Jackson and Noah gave you a final wave before running back towards the front porch. Abe led you into the house, his hand still pressed into your lower back as you walked around front, past his crops, up the porch steps, and into the home. You walked into the kitchen and could see into the living room, where Jackson and Noah sat dutifully on the couch.

You sat with them as they watched TV, with Abe standing several feet away. He pulled his dress shirt, which had been tucked into his slacks, up and out from his trousers, then began to unbutton his shirt from the top down.

“I’m gonna be out in the field for a little while,” he said, his half-unbuttoned shirt revealing a white v-neck underneath, “But you come see me if you need anything, alright, darlin’?”

You nodded and smiled.

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, an’ before it slips my mind,” Abe said, his fingers working on the last couple buttons, “The boys already ate lunch, so you ain’t gotta worry about that t’day. Don’t let these two make a fool outta you.”

His shirt was fully unbuttoned now. The plaid fabric of his dress shirt hugged against his arms as he rolled up the sleeves, and the v-neck was now in full view, revealing the full length of his neck, thick and muscular between his broad shoulders, with the rest of the fabric clinging to the contours of his stomach. He gathered some tools that were strewn about the kitchen table and left the house, closing the door behind him.

With Abraham outside, you stayed in the house to care for Noah and Jackson. They didn’t require much of you; they asked for water and asked to play. Past that, they simply needed a watchful eye to ensure they didn’t get into trouble, and a willing ear to listen and keep them company. You spent about an hour with them in the home, watching TV with them, playing games, watching attentively as they showed you their favorite toys and trinkets. After a while, the three of you sat cross legged on the floor, shooting the breeze about recent happenings.

“Daddy’s always workin’, so we don’t get to talk to him a lot,” Jackson had said. “And momma’s gone, so we can’t talk to her either. I’m happy you’re here, ‘cause now it’s not all boring.”

“Mom and dad ‘re both boring,” was Noah’s response. “I like to watch daddy work. He gets mad at the fruit and the animals, but those don’t talk.”

“Then how about we go outside and watch your dad work for a little while?”

The kids hopped up and down elated and rushed out towards the door without another word spoken, sending you rushing outside to follow them. You took care to close the front door behind yourself before looking to your right, where Abe’s field of crops lay. You couldn’t see him, but heard animals shuffling, clucking, mooing, and neighing distantly to your left, and figured he was in the barn. The kids figured the same, and ran ahead of you, off toward the animals. You tried your best to follow behind, your heels digging into the dirt with each shuffling, quickened step, your hands clasped around fistfuls of your dress to hike it up, keeping your knees exposed and free to flex. As you made your way toward the barn door, you could hear commotion inside.

“What in the hell are you two doin’ out here?”

“We came outside to watch,” said who you recognized as Noah. “The babysitter said we could.”

As Noah finished speaking, you walked into the spacious, arid barn, dropping and smoothing out your dress.

“Sorry, Mr. Pritchard,” you started, pulling your dress down closer toward your knees, “The kids are a little faster than I am in heels.”

A smile spread across his face before he licked his lips, with one hand on his hip. In the other hand was a large brush.

“I c’n see that. These boys lyin’ on you, or did you really wanna see me work?”

“They’re telling the truth. We all wanted to come outside, get some fresh air, and see what was happening out here. If that’s alright with you, sir.”

Abe smirked, licking his lips again. His eyes scanned up and down, from your black heels, scuffed now with light sandy dirt, to the hem of your dress, up still to your chest and shoulders until his eyes met again with your face.

“Sounds just wonderful t’ me,” he said, straightening his posture.

“You boys stay in this barn while I’m in here, y’ understand?”

An attentive “yes, sir” came from both of them.

“And you, young lady,” he said, motioning his finger for you to come closer, “C’mere. I got some things I wanna show you.”

Following his pace toward the back of the barn, you looked around at everything; the stacks of hay and a couple sacks of grain, a box of vegetables, and rows of stables, five on each side. You could hear horses whinnying and clicking their hooves against their stable floors. Abe opened the door of the last stable on the left and stood aside, allowing you to step in before him.

Inside of the stable was a large black horse, it’s mane and tail straight and shiny, standing tall on well-manicured hooves. Abe stepped in behind you, placing his hand against the horse’s neck.

“Beautiful, ain’t she?”

“She is. What’s her name?”

“I ain’t really in the business of namin’ my animals, t’ be honest with you, ladybird.”

Abe took the brush that had been in his hand, brushing out the horse’s mane with one hand, and using the other to calm her.

“I try t’ teach the boys not t’ get too attached t’ things. Everthing’s got an end. Best not t’ make it any harder.”

Abe’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, lifting it up towards the brush in his hand. He placed your hand on top of the brush and placed his own palm on top of that, guiding your movements as you both brushed the horse’s mane. Each of his fingers rested in the spaces between yours, his palm warm, placing a light and comforting pressure against your skin. His body stepped closer behind yours until you could feel his legs and waist pressing up against your backside.

His movements were slow and deliberate, and each of them could be felt against your own skin; the warmth of his palm, every stroke of his thumb against your hand, the tickling sensation of the hair on his arm, the brush of his belt against the back of your dress each time he reached forward and back with his hand. After a while, you were in sync with the rhythm of his breathing, his v-neck rising up and down against your back with each breath, and the gentle air that whirled against your cheek each time he exhaled through his nose.

Seconds, then moments, then a couple minutes passed with Abe’s body pressed against yours before his hand released its grip, sliding gradually down the length of your forearm before dropping off at your elbow.

“I think she’s groomed up just fine for the day,” he said, taking a step back. “I got other stuff t’ do on the farm t’day, but you c’n try your hand at mountin’ her. We ain’t gotta break out the saddle an’ all that. Just a little test drive. See how you feel sittin’ on top of her.”

You agreed to try, leaving Abe with a wide, satisfied grin. He pushed over a small stepstool from the other side of the stall, positioning it at your feet. Stepping out of your heels and onto the stool, you felt Abe’s hands grip around your hips behind you, preventing you from falling. With your leg swinging over the horse’s back, Abe’s hand gripped onto your upper thigh. His hand rode up your dress as you steadied yourself, his fingertips teasing up toward your panty line. Once you were stable, you felt his hand slide down the length of your thigh, his long fingers curling around your knee before dropping off.

“Look at you,” he said, tugging your dress down to cover your exposed thighs, “You’re a natural.”

For several minutes, you straddled the horse, barefoot in your dress, stroking its black, silken mane. Every so often you could feel Abraham’s hand gripping your thigh or your sides to keep you steady, lingering for moments at a time before the next time it happened.

When it came time for you to dismount, you swung your opposite leg up and over the horse, swinging yourself to face toward Abe. You started to slide down toward the step stool on the floor before Abe’s hands wrapped around your waist, lifting you up and over the stool and onto the ground. As your toes and the balls of your feet met the ground, your fingers gripping into his shoulders, his hands slipped down further toward your hips, and backward near the small of your back. Your hands slid down his chest, and you looked up to see his eyes glaring down at you, deep brown and fixated on your lips. Your eyes darted down towards his own lips, but sharply back up to meet his eyes as you swallowed down a creeping nervousness.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Pritchard.”

Abe smiled, his fingers giving your hips a final squeeze before you felt them release, his hands now at his sides.

“Don’t mention it, honey. The pleasure’s all mine.”

Putting your heels back on and being led out of the stable by Abe, the day continued, business as usual; Jackson and Noah helped feed the animals and refill their water, you watched over them, and Abe went about his cleaning, grooming, and inventory while keeping a watchful eye on you. After the horses came the sheep, and after the sheep came the cows. Abe pulled you aside to introduce you to the newest calf, still young and stumbling, walking alongside its mother like a shadow.

“It’s the miracle of life, ain’t it?” he said. “They’re always so beautiful when they’re young.”

Thereafter came the chicken coop, loud and alive with the sound of bawking, flapping, and shuffling. Abe checked each nest box with a basket in tow, filling the basket with each egg he saw. He kept count as he went, column by column, writing down the number of eggs found in each box until he got to the last egg. After tallying them up, he placed a dozen or so eggs in a smaller basket and handed it off to Noah.

“These eggs’ll stay home with us. You an’ your brother go’on back inside and put ‘em in that carton in the fridge.”

The kids turned and walked away without a word, and Abe called out after them.

“No running, and don’t y’all drop those eggs neither!”

Jackson and Noah turned around and called back.

“Yes, sir!”

Abe walked out of the coop, large basket in tow, motioning with his head for you to follow.

“I got one more thing I’d like t’ get done t’day. I was thinkin’ maybe you could help me.”

The two of you walked back around to the front of the house, Noah and Jackson in sight as they ascended the stairs on the porch. The sky was just beginning to darken its shade of blue, with sunset creeping in, and the sun itself obscured partially by clouds. Abe picked up a shovel that leaned against the house, next to the front door, and set down the basket of eggs in its place. He walked back towards you as you stood in the crop field, where he’d asked you to stand.

“A few of these crops need t’ be dug up so I c’n plant new ones. I was thinkin’, since I taught you how t’ get on a horse, may as well teach you this, too.”

You smirked and took the shovel from Abe’s extended arm.

“Horseback riding and crop planting aren’t usually part of my day to day. Am I getting a pay raise, too?”

“Hey now,” Abe warned, stepping behind you, “Don’t get smart with me. Just consider it professional curiosity.”

You readied your foot on the blade of the shovel as Abe stood behind, his hand gripped beneath your thigh to adjust your stance. His body was warm against your own, his goatee prickly against the inside of your neck. His arms stretched out, overlapping your own, and you felt his breath against your ear as he spoke.

“That’s a girl. That’s perfect. Now really put your weight on it, just like that…”

Before the blade of the shovel could cut through the dirt, you heard a loud crash from inside the house. Your head shot upwards, as did Abe’s, as he grimaced and stomped towards the door.

“These goddamn kids—”

You laid down the shovel in the dirt and shuffled in your heels to follow behind as the front door swung open from the force of Abraham’s swing. In the kitchen, the scene was clear; there Jackson and Noah stood, by the fridge, a basket of eggs fallen to the ground. The kitchen floor covered in clear, gooey whites and thick yellow yolks, the fridge door wide open, and a carton of eggs only half full on the kitchen table. The kids looked up at their father, horrified, scrambling to find words to say. Noah was the first to speak.

“It’s Jackson’s fault.”

“It was not, Noah! Daddy, it was an accident, I swear. Noah was jumpin’ around and his arm hit the basket—”

“Did not, Jackson!”

“Did too!”

“Did no—”

“Quiet!”

Abraham’s voice reverberated off of the walls with his yell, deep and rough, rumbling up from his throat. Both children promptly stopped speaking and looked down at the floor, covered in now-drying egg, and listened.

“What did I tell y’all when I gave you these eggs?”

Noah started to respond.

“But dad, Jackson—”

“Don’t you talk back to be me, boy. You answer me. What did I say?”

The room fell silent, before another of Abe’s outbursts.

“What did I tell you, boy?!”

“You said don’t drop the eggs.”

“And what did y’all go an’ do anyway? While I’m tryin’ t’ work? Put food on the table for y’all?”

The kids said nothing.

“All those eggs outside were s’pposed t’ go t’ market. And what now? I can’t sell ‘em all. I gotta give some’a those up so that y’all can have eggs in the mornin’.”

Still, silence.

“Jackson,” Abe said, kneeling down in front of his kids, “D’you remember Exodus 20:12? I taught it t’you before.”

Jackson paused for a moment in thought, twirling his thumbs, before responding.

“Yes, sir. I think so.”

“Say it for me.”

“Honour thy father and thy mother… that thy days may be long on—”

“Upon.”

“That thy days may be long upon the land, which the Lord, our God—”

“Thy God.”

“…The land which the lord, thy God, giveth thee”

Abe nodded.

“Good. Now, Noah. What d’you think that means?”

Noah looked down at the floor, his arms crossed. He kicked at a fallen egg shell.”

“Noah.”

“It means we should listen t’ you an’ momma.”

Abe stood to his feet.

“Good. That’s right. An’ since y’all couldn’t listen t’ me before, you’re gonna listen t’ me now. Clean up this mess. All of it. I want this kitchen spotless, do I make myself clear?”

Both boys responded solemnly.

“Yes, sir.”

“I can’t hear y’all.”

“Yes, sir,” echoed back, with more gusto the second time around. Abe turned to walk back towards where you stood by the front door, watching everything. Behind him, the boys knelt to the ground, picking up egg shells and wet, sloppy yolks from the ground.

“I’m sorry you had t’ see all that. I don’t blame you or nothin’. I asked for you t’ be outside with me. This one’s on them.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Pritchard.”

Abe looked down at your arm and cupped your elbow with his hand. He stroked down your forearm, to your hand, which he squeezed gently and stroked with his thumb.

“As much as I’d like t’ teach you a few more things,” he said, his eyes wandering up your arms, toward your chest and neck before he made eye contact again, “I think it might be better if you stay in the house for now. Keep an eye on the boys. Make sure they don’t break nothin’ else.”

He shot a glance behind himself at the kids, who were still knelt down and cleaning.

“I understand, Mr. Pritchard.”

“Thank you so much, darlin’. You don’t know what a big help you are t’ me.”

Abe gripped your upper arm and kissed the side of your head, before giving you a comforting rub on your back. He shot you and smile and a wink, then opened the front door to go back outside.

~

Hours passed, evening crept in swiftly. You’d helped the boys clean up in the kitchen, picking up eggshells, wiping up sticky yolks and whites, mopping the floor and wiping it dry. You went on to clean the rest of the kitchen, then help them put their toys away. All the while, the rays of light from the kitchen window dimmed into pinks and oranges, and then to the onset of dusk. The boys were upstairs putting their toys away while you stayed downstairs, wiping down the kitchen. Arm outstretched over the length of the kitchen table, the front door creaked open and shut, accentuated by the sound of heavy footsteps. You turned to see Abraham, his shirt and trousers soiled with dirt, his hair in sweaty disarray. In his hand was the larger basket you’d seen earlier, which he set promptly on the table.

“If you could put a carton’s worth’a these away in the fridge, I’d greatly appreciate it, ladybird. I trust your hands more than I trust the boys’.”

You obliged, grabbing an egg carton and beginning to arrange each egg, one by one. Abe shrugged his long sleeved shirt off of his shoulders, balling the plaid shirt in his fist, leaving him standing, watching, in his dirtied white v-neck alone.

“Us’ally I’d cook up somethin’ for dinner around this time, but I’m all wore out today. I’d like t’ take you out t’ dinner t’night instead.”

You placed a final egg in the carton and closed it.

“Dinner sounds nice. Would you like me to ask the boys what they want tonight, sir?”

“Oh. I s’ppose, if you’d like th’ kids t’ come with us, too.”

Yourself and Abe shared a quiet laughter, with Abe’s tongue peeking out between his lips.

“I’m teasin’. I’m gonna head on upstairs an’ shower, you go’on upstairs an’ get the boys dressed up as nice as you are right now, please, darlin’.”

“Yes sir.”

Abe shot you a final smile before he turned to walk upstairs, his v-neck untucked from his trousers, revealing his thick leather belt with each step he took. You followed shortly thereafter, putting the eggs in the fridge and doing a final wipe down of the kitchen, before heading into the boys’ room.

Dutifully, with the hum and patter of water from the shower next door, you picked out their clothes; short sleeve dress shirts for both boys; dark blue plaid for Jackson, and all white for Noah. You helped them with what they needed, which wasn’t much; adjusting Jackson’s misaligned buttons, smoothing out Noah’s wild hair, fixing their slightly crooked collars. As you looked over both boys, as well as your own dress and heels, the door handle jiggled and a familiarly commanding voice filled the room.

“You boys in here behavin’ for this beautiful young lady?”

Behind you stood Abe, his trousers now traded in for a pair of blue jeans which hugged his thighs, supported by a thick, brown leather belt. Apart from this, there was no clothing; his chest and stomach were exposed, his happy trail rising and falling with each deep breath he took. He leaned his forearm into the doorway and peered in, his words directed at his children, but his gaze directed toward you.

Both of them responded in unison.

“Yes, sir.”

“An’ how about you, sweetheart?” he said, unwrapping a white t-shirt in his hands. “You just about ready, too?”

You responded just the same.

“Yes sir, I am.”

“Alright. Good. Y’all head downstairs an’ we can head out, then.”

Promptly, yourself and the children went downstairs, where you found Abe, his keys dangling from his hand as he now wore the white shirt that he’d held in his hands just several moments before. Outside, while the boys hopped into the bed of the truck, you sat up front in the passenger’s seat next to Abe. 

The drive was a long one back to the center of town, with it nearing 8:30 by the time you all arrived at the restaurant. It was a quaint diner, adorned with a neon sign and long, wide windows. Inside the floor was bright white linoleum, with red booths long the walls. Several groups patrons were already inside as Abe picked a booth seat next to the window for the four of you, and you all sat and waited to be served.

“Welcome to Savvy Susan’s Bar and Grill, I’m Candy, and I’ll be your server this evenin’. What can I get y’all to drink?”

Candy was an older woman with short beach blonde hair, all in tight curls around the top of her head. Her lips were a shiny candy apple red that matched her nails, which drummed against her notepad as she awaited your orders. Abe’s judgmental gaze was nearly palatable for you, but seemed to go unrecognized by Candy. With every word that left her mouth, you could feel Abe’s eyes scanning up and down, in mild disgust and moderate bewilderment. You could practically hear him speaking in his own head; how old does this woman think she is?

Abe allowed you to order first, a glass of iced water, before he ordered for the kids and himself.

“Water for the boys here as well, please. And I’ll take a pint of beer. Thank you so much, ma’am.”

As Candy walked away, Abe turned his head to watch her shiny read heels click away toward the kitchen, well out of earshot, before he commented. He leaned in toward your ear.

“I know I’m not as young as I used t’ be,” said, glancing behind himself again. Candy had disappeared into the back of the diner.

“But I didn’t miss Halloween, did I?”

After a moment of pursed-lip laughter, only a minute or two passed before the waitress returned with drinks, after which she asked everyone what they’d like to eat. Jackson eyed a bacon cheeseburger with fries, and Fabian opted for chicken wings with his fries instead. Abe ordered a dinner of steak, a baked potato, and broccoli, while you ordered baked chicken, rice, and veggies for yourself. The food arrived in short order, by which time Abe had already finished his first beer. Asking for a second and saying grace with linked hands, everyone settled in for their meal.

Conversation over dinner was casual, with small talk over the quality of the food, the scenery, and whether or not to get dessert (the kids suggested it, and it was swiftly turned down by Abe). After finishing his second beer, Abe asked for a glass of whiskey, straight, along with his check; upon paying for the meal and tipping Candy a generous twenty dollars (“for a new costume, maybe”, he’d said after Candy parted ways), he threw back the whiskey in one gulp before motioning yourself and his children out of the door.

The kids rushed full speed for the car, while you and Abe lingered by the front door of the diner. Abe twirled his keys on his finger, his boots dragging along the ground with slow, heavy steps. He didn’t stumble, but the reeking scent of alcohol on his breath prompted you to speak.

“Mr. Pritchard?”

He turned his head upward, his keys rattling in his hand.

“Maybe I should drive tonight.”

Abe laughed once, then a second time, then laughed a few more times, clasping his keys tighter in his hand.

“Sweetie, I appreciate your concern. I do,” he said. He held out his hand, palm side down.

“But I’m not drunk. See my hand? It’s steady as ever. I’m good t’ drive us on home.”

He turned to walk again towards the truck, but was stopped again by the sound of your voice.

“Sir.”

You could see him scratching his forehead with his thumb before turning back around to face you.

“Darlin’, I’m fine.”

“Mr. Pritchard—”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” he snapped back. “Does this really mean that much t’ you?”

You paused, seeing the annoyance in his face, and his clenched fists. You tried to respond as gently as you could.

“Yes, Mr. Pritchard,” you said, glancing toward the truck. You saw Jackson and Noah sitting in the back, watching the two of you talk.

“It does.”

Abe sighed and rolled his eyes. You felt a lump grow in your throat as he took a few stomping steps toward you. He grabbed you by your wrist and slapped his keys in your palm, then curled your fingers shut around them.

“Might I ask for a favor in return, then?”

“Yes, sir.”

“If you don’t want me t’ drive, then I can’t drive you home. And you can’t drive yourself home, ‘cause you don’t want me drivin’ all that ways back t’ my house. So if you’re gonna drive, seems t’ me like you’re gonna be stayin’ the night. I’ll pay you double for your time.”

Abe’s hands were now cupping your own, his thumb stroking against the side of your hand.

“You don’t have to pay me extra, Mr. Pritchard. I just wanna do what’s right.”

Abe smiled and uncapped your hands, moving them up toward your forearms. His wedding ring felt cool against your skin compared to the warm grasp of his fingers.

“You’re an angel. You really are.”

His hands moved up to your forearms, which he cupped just the same.

“But I insist. I’ll be payin’ for your time t’night.”

Abe smirked and released his grip before heading back toward his truck, with you quick-stepping behind to keep up. You both loaded into the truck at the same time, the car doors slamming shut asynchronously, the kids laughing carelessly in the back. Turning to your side to reach for your seat belt, you felt a hand slide up and squeeze your thigh. As you turned back to click the belt into place, Abe’s face came into view, lit just barely by moonlight.

“I owe you an apology, I think.”

You turned the key in the ignition, only glancing down for a moment at Abe’s hand. His fingers were partially beneath your dress, and his thumb stroked just above your knee.

“What for?”

“Bein’ cross with you. Snappin’ at you the way I did just then. You just wanna be safe. As a God-fearin’ man, I should’a respected that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Pritchard. Really.”

You felt him squeeze your knee once more before sliding his hand off of your leg, and into his own lap. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes closed.

“An’ thank you again for agreein’ t’ stay the night. I promise t’ make it worth your while.”

~

It was past ten o’clock by the time you’d all arrived home. The boys had finally wound down, ready and eager to rush upstairs and fall face-first on their beds. As their shoes pattered up the stairs, you began to follow, but were stopped by a gentle pull on your arm.

“No, no, darlin’. Don’t worry about them. They’ll be just fine. You should rest a while.”

“Are you sure?” you said. “I’m here for the night, sir. It’s really no problem at all.”

Abe smiled, rubbing the middle of your back, his eyes averted toward your chest for what felt like minutes before he looked back into your eyes.

“And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. Galatians, chapter six, verse nine. You’ve done good work for me t’day, sweetheart. Relax a while on the couch. Reap your reward. I insist.”

Taking a last look toward the top of the stairs, you obediently sat yourself on the couch. Removing your heels, you felt a rush of relief crawl up your spine, finally resting your aching feet on the flat floor and allowing them room to breathe. Meanwhile, Abe could be heard rummaging through the liquor cabinet just a few feet away, grabbing a bottle of whiskey with a short glass in hand. As you rubbed your sore feet, Abe filled the glass to the brim, taking a long sip.

“May I join you?”

Scooting over on the couch, you allowed Abe room to sit to your right. He threw his weight down onto the couch, taking care not to spill his liquor, and kicked off his shoes. He lifted his feet to rest on the coffee table and leaned his head back, his eyelids drooping downward. His white t-shirt rose up just barely from his waist, a sliver of exposed skin showing just above his belt.

The room was quiet and dark, with every light turned out, and the thick curtains obscuring any windows. The only light source was a dim lamp next to the couch, which didn’t go a long way in illuminating the room. The only noise was the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen, and the occasional sip of whiskey between Abe’s lips. Your eyes strayed to look over at him, barely lit by the yellowed lamp light. Eyes still closed, he tapped his wedding band lightly against his glass. You both sat in relative silence for a while, resting your eyes but not quite sleeping, before Abe stood abruptly, gulping down the rest of his whiskey.

“I forgot,” he declared, standing and stretching, “You gotta have some place t’ sleep. I can get some blankets and everything for you. I’ll be back.”

Before you could respond, he was up the stairs, a wobbly but not quite stumbling inebriation in his gait. Some thudding and shuffling echoed downstairs while he was out of your sight, but he came back punctually, a large comforter and a couple of pillows in tow. His feet pounded heavily against the stairs and against the floor boards, his uneven stroll worsening with each step, his balance suffering as his mind remained occupied on what he carried in his arms. With a last clumsily placed step toward you and the couch, his balance gave way completely.

The comforter strewn about the floor. The pillows fallen haphazardly on the couch. Abe himself had fallen on top of you, his hips between your legs, his hands pressed down into the couch on either side of your head to keep his balance. Despite the counter pressure of your hands wrapped around his sides, the weight of his body pressed your own body deeper into the cushions of the couch. The two of you breathed for several moments in silence, the scent of whiskey on his breath beating against your nose and cheeks.

“You alright, doll?”

Still under the spell of a stunned silence, you only nodded and stared for a few moments before responding.

“Yeah. Yes, yes, sir, I’m okay.”

“Good. I’m glad. Maybe you were right not t’ let me drive. I can’t even take a goddamn step.”

The two of you shared a laugh, but once the laughter subsided, you were left to do nothing but stare. Abe didn’t move, and neither did you. The reflection of the couch-side lamp shone in his eyes, brown like chocolate. The graying hairs on his head and in his goatee were in full view, his liquor stained lips just hovering above yours.

Bringing his thumb up to your bottom lip, he traced the outline of your mouth. From corner to corner, his thumbprint skimming over the edge of your lips, up and around to your cupid’s bow, pulling down to reveal the wet, pink inside of your mouth. He pushed his thumb forward between your parted lips, swirling it over the top and tip of your tongue. Your heart pounded against the inside of your chest as you watched him, too stunned and confused to move; Behind his eyes was nothing; only a transfixed stare directed toward the inside of your mouth.

He stayed in place, enjoying the sensation of his thumb swirling above and below your tongue. When he finally pulled it out, slowly and attentively, a string of your spit stuck to his thumb. Twirling it over and over again in circles, he broke the string and wiped the spit back into your lips, now glistening wet.

His fingers worked downward, snaking beneath your neck. His nose tickled against your own as he brought his lips closer to touch yours. The kiss was soft and shallow, and you could just barely taste the alcohol on his lips. He pulled your neck forward toward him for a second time, his tongue this time lapping into your mouth, long and booze-stained like his breath, your mouth coated in the taste of aged whiskey. The third kiss moved on just the same, deeper now, the full weight of his chest bearing down on your body. Before the fourth, you slid your hand up to his chest and pushed, gently, until his lips broke away.

“Mr. Pritchard—”

With a thumb over your lips, he pouted his lips to shush you. He spoke in a low whisper.

“Shhhh, beautiful. Diana doesn’t have t’ know,” he cooed. “There’s a scripture. From Corinthians, I think. No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it. And this here is my way out.”

Abe’s hand slid down the length of your neck and to your chest, where he squeezed your breast. Bending down, he licked from your collarbone up your neck, nipping at your jawline and teasing his lips beneath your chin. Glancing down at his hand, which rubbed up and down your chest, his fingers skimming over your nipples, you noticed the absence of his wedding ring. On his left ring finger there was only the reddened indentation where his ring used to be. He brought his head back up, touching his nose against your own, smiling with a satisfied exhale.

“I don’t know about you,” he said, pausing to place several more kisses along your throat, “But I’m excited to make a pretty young girl like you feel good.”

He kissed down the length of your body, trailing kisses over your dress. His hands gripped into your thighs, his head nearing closer to your waist. He lifted your dress, exposing your panties as his tongue lapped against the skin beneath your belly button. Fingers curling beneath the hem of your underwear. Tugging them down past your knees. Pulling them off and over your feet. He crumpled the panties in his hands and brought them up to his nose, closing his eyes with a deeply satisfied inhale. As he took in your scent, one of his hands slid down his own body, gripping his length through his jeans. He inhaled again, this time with a low grumble. Upon opening his eyes, he smirked, sitting up on his knees.

“Let’s see how wild you young girls can get these days.”

He brought your panties toward your mouth, and used his fingers to push them past your lips. Your panties, light and lacy, dangled past your lips as Abe lifted your legs, his goatee and graying hair obscured by your thighs.

You closed your eyes and gave in to the sensation of his tongue working between the lips of your pussy. The tip of his tongue snaked its way into your hole, in and out, coated with the taste of you. He lapped it upwards between your lips, stopping at your clit. His tongue worked up and down against each side, his lips pursing around your clit each time he stopped to swallow. His past was eager, his tongue struggling to find a place to settle; he wanted to taste everything, feel everything, gauge the reaction of everything he could do. He moaned with satisfaction watching you squirm and arch your back. Your fingers took a fistful of his aging hair to hold him in place as he worked. Behind your closed eyes and inside of your chest, you felt surges of guilt. Her name racked your brain relentlessly. Diana. Diana. What about Diana?

Abraham continued licking you out unabated. The scruff and stubble of his goatee felt prickly against your pussy, and tickled your thighs each time he stopped to worship your inner thighs. Kissing, licking biting, scraping his teeth; he felt alive, he was desperate for more of you, and the feeling was strong enough for you to feel it too, your panties clenched between your teeth as you stifled your moans. Abe continued his pace unabashedly as his finger slid inside of you, twirling in circles so that he could feel every inch of the inside of you. You opened your eyes for only a moment, glancing up toward the banister of the stairs, ensuring there was no sign of the kids. Looking down toward your waist, you were met with Abe’s unwavering stare, lit up by the lamp that sat behind your head. He lifted his head up from between your legs and licked his lips, a trail of your wetness stretching from his wet, glistening lips.

“How am I doin’ so far?”

Your lids drooped sluggishly over your eyes, your body only aching for the touch of his tongue; not a conversation. Abe’s free hand removed the panties from your mouth, allowing you to respond.

“Really good.”

Abe cocked his eyebrow and nodded, A second finger entered inside of you, with more force this time, this thumb rubbing against your clit.

“I hope you didn’t forget how t’ address me properly. Try again.”

“It feels really good Mr. Pritchard.”

“Would you like me t’ keep goin’ then, beautiful?”

“Yes sir,” you exhaled. “Please.”

With a satisfied smirk, Abe’s lips kissed against your pussy. He started with light, fluttering kisses against your clit, and worked down your lips. Reaching the end, his tongue again slipped inside of you, swirling, circling, zig-zagging against every part of your pussy. He took your panties and shoved them again inside of your mouth as he licked and sucked faster around your clit. You reached out your hand to run your fingers through his hair, and guide him gently to stay in place. In your stomach you could feel it; the urge to cum. Your heels rested against his back as you curled and uncurled your toes, your body prepping for release beyond your control. You could feel his intense stare, the squeezing of his hands against your thighs, acutely aware of the twisting and contorting of your body. You could almost see a smirk as he watched you suffer, suffer in the best way imaginable the more he teased; pausing his licks, licking elsewhere, taking his fingers in and out of your pussy. The closer you came to climax, the tighter you squeezed your thighs around his head.

His whiskey stained breath wafted up from between your legs with the arching of your back and the clenching of your jaw. The throbbing between your legs was too intense for you to do anything more than allow your eyes to role in the back of your head, your teeth bearing down on the wet panties in your mouth. Abe watched you throw your head backwards in ecstasy, his tongue still moving at a steady pace, subsiding as the contortion and twisting of your hips began to quell. The throbbing began to dissipate, and Abe removed his fingers from inside of you. They were covered in your warm wetness from top to bottom, and he put both fingers in his mouth to taste you. His hand stroked against the crotch of his jeans and squeezed.

“You taste just about perfect, darlin’.”

Abe stood up from the floor and sat himself on the couch. While one hand snuck between your legs, rubbing between your now-dripping-wet lips, the other worked to unbuckle his jeans. He pulled your head in toward his to kiss you, the sound of him unbuckling and unzipping his jeans audible as you tasted his tongue and traces of yourself. He bit your bottom lip and reached his hand into his underwear, pulling out his cock and leaving one last parting kiss on your lips

He leaned back on the couch and allowed you room to bend over to the side of him, your ass in the air, your knees sunk into the couch cushions, and your mouth licking his shaft. You tugged down his underwear just an inch more to pull out his balls, which you cupped in your hand as your tongue dragged over both of them. A moaning laugh left Abe’s throat as he watched, his fingers wrapped around the back of your neck and head to guide your mouth.

“I don’t think I’ve felt anything like that in a long time, sweetie,” he moaned out. “Not the sorta thing D’s into these days.”

The mention of his wife sent another surge of guilt fumbling around the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it more quickly this time. His balls were coated and wet with your spit from minutes of sucking, licking, and teasing. You moved on to his cock, the thick shaft resting in your hand as you licked him from base to tip. Taking the head into your mouth, you stayed around the tip, your tongue spinning in circles, your hand twisting up and down his shaft. Abe moaned, just loud enough for you to hear, squeezing the back of your neck and holding you in place.

Gradually working down toward the base of his shaft, you felt Abe’s hand reaching up and over your back, pulling your dress up to fully expose yourself. His finger rubbed between the lips of your pussy, as he watched your head bob up and down in his lap. After only several minutes, your hand massaging his balls and your lips halfway down his shaft, he pulled your head up and off of him.

“Get on your knees. On the floor. I wanna see that pretty face while you do it.”

You obliged without thinking twice. Up on your knees you sat in your dress, saliva running down your chin and dripping down Abe’s shaft. You leaned forward between his knees and gripped onto his thighs, maneuvering his cock into your mouth with your tongue. You resumed your sucking where you had been, midway down his shaft, and looked up into his eyes. He was peering down at you, watching your movements and guiding your head. As he noticed your obedient stare upwards, he smiled and licked his lips.

“Good girl. I love it.”

Satisfied with yourself, you continued, stretching out your tongue to massage his shaft. His cock worked deeper and deeper down your throat. You felt his abs and his lightly hairy stomach with your hand, dragging your nails across his skin. He smiled and chuckled, biting his lip to suppress a moan. His hand pressed harder against the back of your neck, forcing you down nearly to the base of his shaft. You held your breath and closed your eyes, trying your best to move your tongue and stretch your aching jaw around his girth. You gagged against the sensation of the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and Abe moaned contentedly in response. Several more seconds brought on a second gag before he finally allowed you to lift your head, streams of spit and bubbles trickling down the length of his cock.

“Goddamn, sweetheart,” he said with a toothy grin, “Talk about teachin’ an old dog some new tricks—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the swinging of a bedroom door and the stomping of footsteps reverberated in the hallway above. Both Abraham and yourself scrambled to straighten out your clothes and reach for the comforter on the floor to cover yourselves. Descending the stairs was Noah, in his pajamas, yawning and peering curiously at the scene in the living room. You looked over at Abe, but didn’t need to look into his eyes to feel how furious he was, glaring at his son with pure, seething, malice.

“What in the hell are you doin’ down here this late?” he scolded. His words startled Noah, who seemed to be on the brink of sleep.

“I wanted some water.”

Abe clenched his jaw.

“Get your ass back upstairs.”

“But—”

“Now!”

Noah turned sharply and rushed back upstairs, his small feet pattering against the floorboards towards his door until his bedroom door clicked shut. Abe leaned back into the couch, rubbing his temples.

“These goddamn kids,” he mused. “These goddamn kids are gonna be the death’a me one day.”

He leaned back in discontent for only a few moments longer before he reached out abruptly to grab your wrist and stand.

“C’mon doll,” he said, tugging you toward the stairs, “Let’s go someplace more quiet.”

Abraham swiftly lead you up the stairs, your panties in his free hand, and to his own bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you. No sooner than he turned the deadbolt were his lips again pressed into yours, his tongue snaking its way in and out of our mouth. In his hands he cupped your ass, squeezing the cheeks, pushing your hips closer into him. You could feel he was still hard beneath his jeans as his lips parted from yours, moving to your chin and up your jaw The hairs of his goatee sent a chill up your spine as they brushed feverishly against your neck, paired with the wet warmth of Abe’s tongue. He pulled away and kissed your cheek, then your forehead, and handed you your panties.

“Here. Put these back on. I wanna see you strip for me.”

Abe led you to the center of the room, in front of the foot of his bed. He turned you around, your backside now met with the sensation of his length pressing tightly against his jeans, and slowly unzipped your dress. As more and more of the skin from your back became exposed, Abe kissed every inch, his lips and tongue exploring your shoulder blades and the dip of your back. Once he got to the end of the zipper, he kissed inside of the crook of your neck.

“You c’n take it from here, baby girl.”

Abe turned you back around to face him. Pulling up a chair against the wall in front of you, he sat and anxiously awaited your next move.

With Abe sat just in front of you with his legs spread apart, his hand squeezing and stroking the length of his shaft through his jeans, you began to strip. Sliding each arm of your little back dress off of your shoulders. Sliding each side down the length of your arms. Pausing to rub your hands up your own stomach and chest, then pulling the dress down further still. Exposed stomach, the hem of your panties peeking out from beneath the zipper. You turned around to pull the dress down past your hips, bending over at the waist, knowing the lips of your pussy, covered only by white lace, were in Abe’s full view. Stepping out of the dress completely, you turned back around to see Abe, his mouth slightly agape as he stared with full, unwavering attention at your body. He’d pulled his jeans down more, and rubbed himself, his thumb stroking just beneath his head, now only through is underwear.

Unclipping your bra. Sliding the straps past your shoulders. Letting it fall to the ground. Abe fought the urge to reach out and touch your body, and instead, admired your shape without touching. Before you could pull down your panties, he spoke.

“No, no, no, darlin’,” he warned. “Not yet. Leave those on.”

He licked his lips and nodded.

“Get up on the bed. Let me watch you touch yourself.”

And onto the bed you went. Adjusting his pillows to make it more comfortable, you leaned back on his bed and spread your legs. You touched yourself first over your panties, mimicking Abe, who still only massaged his length through his boxers. You arched your back and bucked your hips, slipping your hand beneath the hem of your underwear. Cupping one breast with your hand, the middle finger on your other hand rubbed between your lips. You closed your eyes and moaned for him. You focused on the sensation of your own warmth, your own wetness, the feeling of that wetness working up toward your clit. You slid your own finger inside, fingering yourself, your hand working at a modest pace for Abe to watch. Soon, Abe’s on hand disappeared beneath his boxers, stroking his head and massaging his balls, all of his movements obscured.

After several minutes of play, Abe stood and took off his shirt. You continued to touch yourself as you watched, his hands covered in thick veins, some of those veins carrying their way up his forearm. You stared at his stomach as he slid his belt out of the loops and doubled it over in his hands.

“Bend over.”

You removed your hand from your underwear, your fingers coated in your own mess. Before you turned around to bend, Abe grabbed your wrist to bring your fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off of your fingers. He licked his lips and cocked his eyebrow with a confident smirk before turning you around, your feet planted on the floor, and your body bent over his bed.

You waited knowingly. His hand grabbed one of your ass cheeks and squeezed before it reeled backward. It came back down with a thunderous slap and a delayed stinging pain.

He did the same on the other cheek. Another stinging pain. He did it once more on each cheek, squeezing and grabbing each time, your ass becoming warm with the rush of blood, or body tingling with adrenaline. A long pause passed with no sound, no action. Only quiet. Dead quiet, aside from minute shuffling. Until..

Abe’s leather belt slapped with a sudden force against the back of your thighs. You shrieked minutely and Abe quickly shushed you, putting his hand over your mouth.

“Not so loud, baby girl,” he whispered. “Just lemme have one more.”

You braced yourself for the next one, and it came without hesitation. The thick leather strap left a searing pain against your thighs, and Abe rubbed his hand over every mark he left, soothing the pins-and-needles sensation that cascaded throughout your lower body.

“That’s a girl. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Abe tossed his belt to the floor and pulled down his jeans and underwear. His bottom half was left fully exposed for the first time tonight; his hairy legs, much like the hair on his stomach. His thighs, thick and toned, flexing as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them aside. When they hit the floor, you heard a metallic clang against the wall. Averting your eyes toward the wall, his wedding ring stood out, golden and thrown to the floor, having fallen out of his pocket. Before you could register any residual guilt, Abe spoke.

“I’ll let you lead this time,” he said. “Show me somethin’ a young girl like you c’n surprise an old dog like me with.”

You took your eyes off of the wedding ring, and fixated them back on Abraham. He stood, expectantly, waiting for your command. You shook the ring from your mind without a second thought.

“Could you lay down for me, Mr. Pritchard?”

“Yes, ma’am”, Abe teased. He laid down back first on his bed, with you crawling on top of him. Straddling him, you positioned him between your legs and slowly eased him into you. You could feel him stretching your pussy as you eased down farther on his length. Feeling your wetness ease down his cock, Abe moaned and squeezed your hips. He bit his lip and laughed at himself, bucking his hips upward to feel more of you.

“Sorry about that, darlin’,” he chuckled. “I just ain’t felt somethin’ as good as that in a long time.”

You smiled down at him, his deep brown eyes gazing up at your body. His hands wandered up your stomach and chest as your hips grinded against him, up and down, forward and back. You pressed your hands into his chest for leverage, and he cupped both of your breasts with his hands. Squeezing, twisting, pulling at your nipples, rubbing them between his fingers and watching them bounce with each of your movements. He sat up in his elbows, just enough to reach your breasts with his lips, and flicked his tongue against your nipples. He switched sides, from left to right, sucking and biting around each breast as you continued to ride him. You controlled the rhythm as he laid back and enjoyed every passing minute, laying back down, flat on his back, allowing you to do the work. He watched his length pump in and out of your pussy, throwing his head back on his pillow, black and gray hairs beginning to fall out of place in disarray.

“You young girls are tight, aren’t you?” he jeered. “Nice and tight.”

As you continued to ride, you felt his hips buck up and down to meet each of your own. Slowly but surely, he gained more control; your grinding became his thrusting; your nails digging into his chest became his hands gripped around your wrists. His moans became hours, until you relented to him, his hips bucking upwards and into your clit as you sat on top of him. As he continued, harder and faster, your moans became louder and more reckless. To quell your noises, Abe placed his index finger in your mouth and watched you suckle on it, his eyes glossed over with a barely containable mixture of pleasure and awe.

Minutes passed by without hesitation, but eventually, Abe sat up. He pulled out wrapping his arms around you and laying you on your back. He buried his face into the crook of your neck against the pillow on which you laid your head, and reached his hand between your legs to reposition himself. He grinded his hips up against you, his length stroking between your lips, his head grazing over your clit with each upward thrust. Your fingernails gripped into his back and shoulders on the last thrust, and as he finally slid himself into your toes curled inward on both feet. You groaned and moaned the deeper he pushed inside of you, until Abe had to quiet your moans with a hand over your mouth.

“Quiet, sweet girl,” he whispered. “I know you like it. It’s big, isn’t it?”

You nodded.

“Feels good, don’t it?”

Again, you nodded.

“I know. It feels good t’ me too. But you gotta be quiet.”

With his hand still covering your mouth, Abe rocked his hips back, and thrusted sharply again forward. You squeezed your thighs in toward his stomach and groaned, met with a proud grin from Abe. He kept himself propped up on his fist as he thrusted in and out of you, staring into your eyes and taking delight in your moans and whines. He removed his hand from your mouth for only a second before your mouth was met with his lips, still ripe with the scent of whiskey. Your tongues intertwined as Abe continued to thrust, some of his moans escaping into your mouth. His pace began to slow, and his kisses became softer along your cheek. His goatee raked against your cheek as he leaned his forehead into yours, your noses touching, side by side. You ran your fingers through his thick, dark brown hair, and stroked your finger against his goatee. He lifted his head and stared down into your eyes, his hips bucking against your thighs, each time with a gentle slap.

“You’re such a beautiful young lady.”

You exhaled.

“Thank you, Mr. Pritchard.”

“Definitely a lot better than anything I’ve had lately.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down for another kiss, allowing his lips to linger before he pulled away, leaving a trail of boozy breath behind.

Abe sighed and sat up on his knees, pulling your body down, closer to him. He grabbed one of your wrists in each hand and pinned them next to your head, beginning to thrust now faster than before. He leaned in towards your face, panting lightly as he continued thrusting, watching your lips part with each moan.

Your toes once again began to curl, with a buildup of pleasure growing inside of you. As Abe continued to thrust, his thighs slapping into your own, you felt a warm gush of liquid between your legs. Abe pulled out and looked down, his expression reminiscent of shock or surprise as he rubbed his fingers between your lips.

“Jesus,” he said. “I ain’t never seen that before. I hope that was a good thing.”

You licked your lips at the feeling of his fingertips rubbing around your clit.

“It was, sir.”

“Alright then,” he said, putting his hands on your hips. “Good. Flip over for me.”

You flipped over from your back and onto your hands and knees. Nothing happened for a moment, until you felt his tongue behind you, working up from between your pussy lips towards your ass. Abe’s tongue pressed up against your hole, his lips kissing the inside of your cheeks. He used his hands to spread your cheeks apart as his tongue worked, for several minutes, working between your ass and taint. In short order, Abe straightened his posture and put his hand in the small of your back, entering you from behind. You rested your head against the bed, leaving your ass in the air, both of Abe’s hands now caressing your hips. His fingers squeezed into your waist as he pulled you into each of his thrusts. Every now and again, you felt a familiar stinging against your ass and thighs, Abe’s heavy hand slapping with an impassioned force against your ass. Your head remained pressed into the sheets, a fistful of comforter in each hand.

Abe wet his finger in his mouth, soon after which a sudden wetness could be felt against your second hole, along with the probing of Abe’s finger. With just a few more moments of pressure, you could feel his middle finger slide into your ass, curling and bending inside of you as he continued to fuck your pussy. There you laid now, bent over on your knees, struggling to contain your exasperated moans; his finger twisting inside of you, his balls hitting against your clit which each of his powerful thrusts.

Minutes passed by, and you suddenly felt Abe’s finger pull out of your ass. The weight of his body got heavier and heavier against your back as he leaned forward, more and more until the full weight of his body was pressed into your back. With his face now so close to yours, you could feel each of his labored liquor breaths puff past your ear. He worked his hands beneath your body, cupping your breasts, grinding as deeply inside of you as he could manage. His lips kissed in circles against your shoulder, then came up to kiss your ear. He began to moan and groan, his thrusts growing faster and harder.

“You ready, pretty girl?”

You moaned a yes in response, and Abe buried his face into the crook of your neck. You could feel everything; his goatee, his fingers squeezing your chest, his huffing and puffing, the vibration of his moans, the pressure of his body pushing you down into his mattress.

Abe took one hand off of your breast and grabbed your hand, his fingers closed in around the spaces between your own. His moans grew louder and less controlled the closer he came to climax, until finally, he let out one last grunting moan, his hand squeezing yours tight. His cock throbbed inside of you, and you could feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

He stayed inside you for a time, breathing heavily, sitting up only to marvel your body. He left a parting kiss in the middle of your back, just between your shoulder blades, and pulled out, shuffling off the bed to stand at the edge of the bed. He gently lifted your head by the chin, guiding your head over to his shaft. Intuitively, you opened your mouth to lick it clean.

You licked the cum that had dripped down his balls, you worked up to the shaft to taste his cum and yourself. As you licked him clean, you could feel his cum dripping out of your pussy and down the length of your thigh. Behind him, on the other side of the room, you still saw his wedding ring, neglected on the floor. The pangs of guilt you’d been having all night seemed to have subsided; you glanced for only a moment more at the ring before you locked eyes with Abe, licking every drop off cum off of his cock. Putting him in your mouth once more, you worked him down your throat and sucked the remaining cum out of his shaft. Without command, you lifted your head and opened your mouth to show him his cum before you swallowed it down. He smirked and ran his thumb over your lips, bending down to kiss your lips, then the middle of your forehead.

“I appreciate your time, sweetie, I really do,” he said. “Maybe I should have you workin’ overtime more often.”


End file.
